The Beginnings of Darkness
by Ice Cream Bean
Summary: Mordred is a mysterious character. We know little about him or how he grew up. The Beginnings of Darkness is the birth-present tale of this character shrouded in darkness  and perhaps a hood . DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MERLIN OR BBC.
1. Chapter 1

A girl raced along the path, her eyes flickering back to make sure she had lost them. She had not. She kept running. _Those Knights of Camelot may be stupid, but they're certainly very brave. They would follow a sorcerer right into his den if their king commanded them. _Uther. Just the thought of him filled her with loathing. That man had burned her entire family, with the exception of her little brother. Poor, sweet Emmet had been drowned. But she tried not to think of that. Instead, she focused on the hate and determination that had kept her alive.

Her family had lived in the forest. The Godeon were the descendants of trees themselves, and the firstborn of each generation was the sovereign of the forest itself. They were a dark and mysterious family, with roots tracing back to before a time when the Old Ones ruled the Earth. Luckily for Uther her cousin, Elliot, was a peaceful ruler. But Uther had decided that this powerful dynasty of forest kings should come to an end, regardless of how peaceful they were. _We should have attacked him while we had the chance, _she thought.

His knights set fire to their house at night, and the timber woven into their very souls burned brightly. But she had escaped with Emmet and a timeworn ring. The ring, gold and set with the purest emerald she had ever seen, had a great source of power that could only be used by the destined Godeon. So far, every single one of this lineage had tried on the ring at age three (an ancient prophecy declared this was when the destined one, the Dywyll, would begin their training) but so far there had been no success. _They will have Emmet's or my blood, now,_ she mused. Emmet!

As they were running, one of the guards had shot an arrow at her back. Emmet blocked it with body. He was badly wounded, but she carefully took it out of his body and healed him. It was not enough. Just as he slipped into unconsciousness, he whispered, "Run."

So she ran. She ran as hard as she could, for Emmet and for mother and every last Godeon that ever lived, for she was the last of them now. The last of her kind.

She did not know how long she ran, dodging arrows and evading swords. Her hate fueled her desire to live. It was her desire to kept the forest people alive and one day raise up one of them against Uther. But no creature can run forever. Her eyes flared gold as she wove a net out of vines and saplings around her with the last of her magic. She had waited until her last gasp to use this spell, for to use it in her state was certain death. The front riders yelled as they crashed into the impenetrable wall of greenery surrounding her. She smiled with satisfaction, and then crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

A 14 year-old Arthur frowned. "Father, should we try to take down the vines?"

"Not now, my son. Take this as a lesson to you, Arthur. Magicians will do anything to evade your grasp, even take their own life. We are lucky this sorceress did not inflict some final form of retribution. Perhaps she was too weak. I was turned into a toad once. I hopped around croaking orders to everyone until the spell wore off."

Arthur laughed, then tried to look serious. "How was my first sorcerer hunt, father?"

"You did excellent," Uther praised. "You even hit the younger one. The girl healed him, though. He's not dead, not even close. He will be drowned, of course."

"Father, is that really necessary? He's still very young and–"

"Not another word. You will soon learn that even the smallest sorcerer is a danger to my kingdom. Come now, you must be tired. This hunt has lasted half the night and I want you home by morning."

As they left, a stealthy figure crept toward the vine enclosure. He opened it with a word as his violet eyes flashed gold. A sudden breeze caught his mulberry cloak; it billowed around him. He stooped down to the sprawled figure and put a hand on her heart. She was still alive. Pouring both life and magic into her, his eyes glowed gold again. Some color flickered into her beautiful face. Her round, green eyes met the dark purple ones.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Anastasia." Her voice was barely audible. The mossy eyes shut and Anastasia entered into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He picked the young woman up and carried her to his camp.

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><p><strong>ReviewSuggestions welcome and met with much shouting and happiness. Also for those of you who are wondering, those are Mordred's mom and dad.**


	2. Chapter 2

Anastasia cradled the baby in her arms. _He has Roy's hair, _she thought. _But my eyes. He looks like Emmet. Oh, Emmet! _But she would not think of Emmet on such a happy occasion. Leroy sat down next to her on the forest floor, his violet eyes twinkling in the sun. "What will you name him?" he asked.

"Leroy the Second."

"Don't be silly," he laughed. "Naming a child after his father is ancient tradition, probably older than Uther himself," Roy chuckled. Anastasia tittered.

_He has such a nice laugh,_ she thought. "How about Mordred then? It's an old name; it runs in the family."

"Mordred," he reflected. "I like it. It's not exactly dashing, but it's a good, magical name." Roy's eyes glimmered a playful gold and the baby was lifted up into the air and into Roy's arms.

"Gotcha!" he shouted. The baby began to cry.

"See, look Roy, you're scaring him. Besides, that's not fair. You know that I can only do forest and healing magic."

"So what? We need to get our little tot used to magic." Suddenly, the sheets drying on the clothes line billowed out. Mordred's eyes slowly faded back to green. The baby gurgled innocently.

"See, sweetheart. He's already a sorcerer," Leroy argued playfully.

"Alright, you win. But hand him over so I can feed him."

Suddenly the baby's emerald eyes locked on to the amethyst ones, as if Mordred knew this was the last time he would see his father. An ugly, black arrow sprouted out of Leroy's chest. Anastasia screamed._ Dear God, not Roy, too. I will not lose another loved one to Uther. _She didn't. For bandits shot the arrow that was aimed at her lover's back.

Black streaks ran from the wound. The arrow was poisoned, Anastasia realized. Leroy's breath was heavy; he did not have long to live. With small shrieks, Mordred knocked down bandits one at a time. It was not enough however. Though the newborn had taken down the archers in the band, the thieves still ran towards the camp. Quickly, Anastasia grabbed the baby and her family's ring. _If those tyrants want to even touch either of them, they're going to have to get past me._

Leroy saw all of this with quickly fogging eyes. With his last breath, he whispered, "Yn mynd i'r lle rydych yn hapusaf." _Go to the place you are happiest _he thought as his eyes flickered gold._ Be free._

Anastasia found herself with Mordred and the ring in a meadow. She gasped and shook her head. She must be dreaming. But, no, she was not. The aroma of wildflowers, especially the roses filled her nostrils. A light breeze shook the trees that surrounded the meadow. A brooked babbled nearby. The grass beneath her feet was lush and green. _I've been here before,_ she realized.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry about the late post, guys. I had lots of projects.**

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><p><em>It was a perfect afternoon in late spring. She carried a baby, not Mordred, but Emmet. Her twin cousins Blossom and Lenora made garlands out of the white apple blossoms. They laughed as they placed a wreath of flowers on their older brother Elliot's head. She giggled along. Another cousin, Trenton was catching fish with his bare hands, but every time he got one, it managed to wiggle out of his hands and back to the stream. Beautiful Pana was picking the wild strawberries that grew on the edge of the field. A warm breeze caught the apple trees and made it seem like snowing flowers. It was a perfect day.<em>

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><p>Anastasia was woken back to reality by a baby crying in her arms. She remembered everything. Emmet was dead, lovely Pana was dead, even firm, strong Elliot. And Roy. Oh, Roy. She could have saved him. <em>But he is certainly doomed, <em>she thought._ If that arrow didn't kill him, then the energy drain of transporting two real, breathing humans will have finished him. _So Anastasia sat down with the baby and cried with him.

She did not know how long she wept. But when she stopped, she realized Mordred must be starving. She searched for some berries or roots she knew were safe. Anastasia mashed them all up and fed them bit by bit to the hungry child.

Now Anastasia felt her hunger returning. She wanted for something for herself. She grabbed handfuls of berries and roots and stuffed them in her mouth. It was not enough, though. After just half an hour she could feel her hunger returning. Along with it came exhaustion with barely any strength left she muttered, "Cwningen yn ufuddhau i'r ewyllys y goedwig. Dod. Mort." And as her eyes faded back to green, a rabbit crept up to Anastasia and lay dead at her feet. She felt bad about using her power like that, but she had to eat.

She gathered firewood and sent a bolt of electricity onto the pile of brushwood. Mordred shrieked as a fire blazed up, but Anastasia calmed him by whispering softly into his ear. "Shhhh, sweetheart, shhhh," she murmured. Once Mordred calmed down, Anastasia began to prepare the rabbit. It wasn't bad for a first time, so Anastasia shredded up a piece and fed it to Mordred.

She worked hard gathering berries, drawing animals to her, and roasting them. Anastasia made sure Mordred was safe and dry. She made a lean-to, with a basket hanging above. Survival was now a form of revenge on Uther. Sometimes even this ran thin, and the only reason she had to keep living was Mordred. He was the last hope of the Godeons.

They lived there for three years. Then everything changed.

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><p><strong>Reviews are appreciated!<strong>


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